Date: Wed, 21 Oct 2009 19:47:20 -0400
From: Keiren Connors
Subject: Brae Chapter 3
We finished dressing and then jogged over to the dining hall. Cam and Kenner
were waiting for us when we got there. We all heaped our trays high,
starving after the day's exertions. We settled into a table by the window
overlooking the green. The sun was just beginning its descent, casting a
brilliant pink hue into the sky and causing flecks of orange and red light
to dance off the square's central fountain. Few words were exchanged as we
set about inhaling our food. It was only after we'd started on our second
helping of desert that we fell into steady conversation.
Kenner had a bag of ice taped to his shoulder which he'd had surgery on in
February. The rigorous morning workout had caused it to flare up and he was
concerned about how his shoulder was going to survive the season.
"I guess I'm going to have to ease into full workouts more than I expected.
I really pushed it too much today," he said.
"Do Timmy and Jimmy know about your injury?" I asked.
"Yeah, of course. I was really scared last winter when I had to let them
know about it, I thought Carrington might rescind their offer, but they
didn't. Jimmy was really understanding today and told me to only do what I
was ready for. Obviously I overdid it."
"Felt like you had something to prove today?" Cam asked.
"Yeah, a little bit. Well, a lot. That clearly backfired," Kenner said with
a rueful smile.
"Ehh, you'll be ship shape in no time," Skip said light heartedly.
"I hope so. I think I might have to bail on the movie tonight though.
Trainers are on call until 9pm, so I think I'm going to stop in after dinner
and get everything checked out," said Kenner.
"Aww, bummer. You still gunna come Cam?" Skip asked.
"I think I might pass. Horror movies aren't my favorite," Cam said.
"We could see somethin' else," Skip offered.
Cam's face crinkled in to a charismatic smile that made him look even more
elfin. "Nah, you guy go have fun. I'm beat anyways. Some other time. I want
to call my brother tonight anyways."
"Oh crap, I still have to call my mom back!" I cringed. "I'll do that on the
way to the movie, I guess."
I was cut off by loud whoops from the courtyard. A group of guys led by (who
else?) Drake, stumbled through the courtyard making a loud spectacle of
themselves and harassing the few pedestrians that they passed. I checked my
watch.
"8:15. They wasted no time. Starting early." I said sarcastically.
"My brother said most of the athletes here party pretty early since they
have to be up so early," Kenner said as he stared out the window, a
perturbed look on his face.
"You have a brother who goes here?" I asked.
"Yeah, he's a junior. He's not on any teams, but there's a lot of football
guys in his fraternity. Just wait until fraternity rush gets started,
they'll make Drake look like child's play."
"I can't wait," I groaned over a series of crashes from outside. Drake and
his friends had started shucking their empty beer bottles on the ledge
around the fountain and tossing them into it.
"It's already started. All the best houses have guys scoping us out and even
recruiting."
"Really?" Cam asked. "But most students won't be here for another 2 weeks."
"Yeah, but the student athletes end up making up a pretty high percentage of
the guys who go Greek, and most of the freshmen athletes are here now," said
Kenner.
I was only half listening, my mind was still focused on what was transpiring
outside. Drake and another guy I recognized as Finch from the team had
climbed up onto the fountain and were continuing their drunken revelry.
"Where is campus security?" I wondered aloud.
"Are you guys going to go Greek?" Kenner asked.
"Hadn't really thought about it. Sure. Maybe. Why not?" Skip said
contemplatively. "Are you?"
"Yeah, I'll probably end up joining my brother's frat. Cam thinks he might
too. What about you Brae?"
"No, I don't think so. There's a lot of dues and stuff and I don't think
most of the events would appeal to me. Seems like kind of a waste," I said.
"Oh. You hafta pay to be in them?" Disappointment was written all over
Skip's face.
"Yeah, dues can get very expensive. The frats at Carrington are known for
throwing really extravagant and expensive parties."
Across the courtyard I noticed three campus police officers making their way
towards the fountain. Drake and his friends were scurrying down and making
their break for it, their progress significantly hampered by their
intoxication.
"Finally!!" I exclaimed. "Thank god nobody was being mugged, I wouldn't like
their chances. The response rate is a joke. It's not a big campus!"
"Wonder if they'll get away," Skip said. The four of us watched the
proceedings with rapt attention from the safety of our table. Despite their
inebriation, Drake's friend had the benefit of athletic prowess over the
three middle aged and rather portly security guards and were able to make an
easy getaway, although Finch had a bit of a close call when he stumbled over
a bench, he managed to avoid being apprehended. I found it telling when
neither Drake, nor his buddies, went back to help their fallen comrade.
"Well, quite the evening of entertainment!" Skip said.
"I'll say. Well I'd better get going if I'm going to get to the trainers
before they leave for the night," said Kenner.
"Yeah and our movie starts at 7:55, so we had probably better get a move
on," I said.
I called my mom on the way to the theatre and gave her a brief run down of
how practice went and promised to call her the following day to have a more
thorough chat.
"My parents say hello," I said as I pocketed my cell phone.
Skip smiled. "They're really, really great."
"Yeah they are," I said as we strolled down Carrington Cross towards the
small movie theatre, the lights of its large art-deco style marquee dancing
in distance and bouncing haphazardly off of the glass surface of Lottie's
building. "See that tall building over there?" I asked, pointing at the
Carrington skyscraper.
"The one giving us the light show?" Skip snickered.
I laughed. "Yeah, that one."
"God how annoying must it be to live in those lower floor apartments? That
marquee is like a seizure waiting to happen," said Skip.
"I'm sure they have blinds or something. Anyways, that's Lottie's building."
"Ahh, the site of your infamous debauchery."
"The very spot."
* * *
Skip and I bought our tickets but passed on snacks because we'd more or less
just engorged ourselves in the dining hall. The theatre had a charming old
Hollywood feel to it, with ornate golden gilding on the walls, fancy
chandeliers, plush red carpeting and luxuriously upholstered chairs. The
small theatre had only four screens and a small snack bar, which reminded me
of some of the arts cinemas we had back in New York. The lobby was mostly
empty aside from a few elderly people and our theatre was completely empty
when we first walked in. We found seats and settled down for the movie.
"Ooh, comfy," Skip said, wiggling himself deeper into his seat.
"This theatre is incredible. And so well kept! I can't believe it's managed
to survive in this condition with college kids like Drake running around. I
wonder if it had landmark status..."
"The plaque in the lobby said it's university supported, they do student
film premieres here. Carrington probably pumps a lot of money into this
baby."
"Oh, I missed that. So I have my first lifeguarding shift tomorrow," I said,
changing the subject. I still couldn't figure out why Skip seemed so put off
by my getting a job at the pool.
"Oh really? What time?" Skip replied, sounding much more receptive than I
had expected.
"9am. So pretty much right after we finish morning practice."
"So I guess you'll be wanting a good night's sleep tonight."
"Yeah, no four hour naps for me tomorrow."
"I really need to get a job. Especially if I want to join a frat. Maybe I'll
get one at the pool too."
"That could be fun. We could get shifts together!" I replied a little too
enthusiastically for my own pride. `I can't believe how much this boy is
betting to me!' I thought to myself. "So... you're thinking about joining a
frat?"
"Dunno, maybe. I guess I'd hafta see if I can swing it. Might be a good way
to meet people, y'know?"
"Yeah. Lifeguarding could be good for that too!" I said hopefully. Skip
didn't immediately respond. "Or whatever job you end up getting..."
"Yeah, that's true..."
The previews started and we switched our attention to the movie, letting the
conversation drop. The movie was entertaining and managed not to let the
gore factor escalate into overkill, which I'd noticed was becoming a common
trend. It was even a somewhat thought provoking film if you wanted to really
read into it.
"You know, for a movie with Paris Hilton, that really wasn't bad... It
certainly surpassed my expectations," I said as Skip and I exited the
theatre, trailing a particularly amorous couple that looked around our age,
and a group of high schoolers who definitely didn't look old enough to be in
a rated R movie. I cringed as a piece of popcorn got wedged between my toes.
And Skip laughed.
"Maybe you could get a job sweeping up in here," I joked. "This is the last
time I ever wear flip flops to this theatre."
"Do you think they would give me free movie passes?" Skip asked earnestly.
I groaned. "There is butter in between my toes!!!" As we walked out into the
lobby I stopped and grabbed a napkin from the refreshment stand and set
about wiping off my toes. Skip walked over the ticket window to talk to the
usher. He came back a moment later proudly brandishing a job application.
"Oh. You were serious about working here?" I asked.
"Dunno. Maybe. I should explore my options. Plus I'd get free movie
tickets!"
"That would be cool. I hope that as your roommate I would reap the benefits
of that," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.
"We shall see," he said with mock haughtiness. "You ready to go? I've never
seen such a fuss over a little butter."
"Whatever. My flip flop wasn't going to stay on, my toes were too
lubricated!"
"Right, okay, crybaby," Skip teased.
"Hey, you'd better watch it, I know where you live."
"Bring it. I have six siblings. I've seen it all. You are outmatched on this
one."
"I bet it was really fun growing up with so many siblings. I always wanted a
brother or sister," I said, shifting gears. Skip hadn't opened up much about
his family and I was curious about what his situation with them was...
Something seemed off. As far as I knew, he hadn't even checked in with
anyone from home the last three days. "Are you the oldest?"
"Seven kids in a three bedroom house has its moments, believe me, but all in
all it was fun. I'm the second oldest, I have an older sister. We're Irish
twins."
"Really?"
"Yeah, she's January and I'm November. We were always in the same grade
growing up and thick as thieves. Quite the tyrants with the younger ones,"
Skip said was a wistful smile.
"Where is she going to college?" I asked.
"She isn't." Skip paused, seemingly reluctant to continue. "She's, uhh,
she's actually gettin' married in a few weeks."
"She's what?! But she's *our* age!"
"Seems kinda hick doesn't it?" Skip said with an uncomfortable chuckle.
"So are you going back for the wedding?" I asked.
"Probably not."
"What?! How can you not go to your own sister's wedding? I mean it sounded
like you guys were close."
"There's a lot of reasons. Besides we have a meet that weekend."
"Skip, I'm sure you'd be allowed to miss the meet for your sister's
wedding." I bit my lip nervously for a moment. "Is it about money? Because
you could have saved up enough from your job by then-"
-"No it's not about money." Skip snapped, cutting me off. "It is complicated
and I don't really wanna talk about it."
"Okay," I gave in reluctantly. "You know you can talk to me though. About
anything. If you need someone to talk to," I said, hoping that I wasn't
sounding too obvious.
"Okay."
We walked the rest of the way home in silence. Our conversation had not
cleared up any of my questions, in fact, my curiosity had only been stoked
further. I was now convinced that Skip was hiding something and that
something had happened to put a strain between him and his family. Could he
be gay? I wondered to myself for about the billionth time since meeting him.
Am I being na´ve and overly optimistic? Have I read too many stories on the
internet? I was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was troubling
Skip.
Things were tense when we got back to the room and we both quickly got ready
for bed without any further discussion. I felt bad about pushing Skip, but
at the same time my brain was racing with unending speculations about what
Skip was hiding from me. It didn't take long for my exhaustion to overwhelm
me.
* * *
I woke on my own at 5:10 and stretched leisurely. My hand automatically
seemed to find its way to the morning wood tenting my briefs. `I can sleep
for 20 more minutes,' I told myself, yet somehow I found my hand continuing
to massage the head of my aching cock. I looked over at Skip nervously and
any reservations I had immediately went out the window. He was sprawled on
his back with his face turned towards me. Relaxed in sleep, his features
looked angelic and his mess of rusty colored hair looked charmingly
disheveled. I gulped in awe. Even more enticing was the image of Skip's
body, on full display thanks to his kicked off sheet. His body was leanly
muscular, with perfectly proportioned biceps, defined pectorals that housed
his small perky nipples, and deep rivulets between his incredibly defined
abdominal muscles. But the true masterpiece was Skip's cock, obviously erect
in his thin white briefs, and tenting his briefs so as to expose his light
brown pubic hair. This was simply too much stimulation to take. I began
stroking, drinking in as much of the sight before me as I could, and
slathering my precum over the head of my cock as lubricant. I was transfixed
on Skip's glorious image, truly hypnotized, when his voice suddenly broke
through my fog of lust.
"I can hear you," Skip said almost playfully.
I bolted upright and looked over at him in terror as I tried to stuff my
arousal back into my briefs. Skip's eyes were still closed. `Maybe he didn't
see me looking at him. Please, please, don't let him have seen me looking at
him. Fuck!'
"Fuck! I'm sorry. I uh... uh..."
"Though I was asleep?" He asked, cracking one eye open and looking at me.
"Yeah..." I said quietly. I couldn't believe this was happening. Especially
after he had just caught me the day before. "You probably think I'm some
kind of a masturbation addict," I said ruefully. Skip laughed.
"A little."
I hung my head.
"Brae, I'm joking. What teenage boy doesn't masturbate every day? Look, we
may as well get used to it and we shouldn't have to feel guilty about it."
"Umm... okay." I was still in shock from being caught.
"So why don't we take care of these right now?" He said nodding towards the
massive bulge in his briefs.
He gave me a randy smile. My stomach dropped. Was this really happening? Was
this some kind of a come on? Or was he on to me and trying to smoke me out?
I sat there in stunned silence, unable to formulate a coherent thought and
unable to tear my eyes away from Skip's face, his eyes especially green in
the early morning sunlight.
"Look it's not like we both haven't seen a penis before."
I just gulped.
"There's no shame in it," Skip said as he pulled back the elastic of his
briefs and his cock snapped against his belly.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. His boner must have stretched a solid
nine inches, it was like something out of a magazine. I gasped as he began
stroking his thick shaft, teasing his fingers along its muscular urethra,
the cobwebs of veins bulging under the pale velvety skin and finally up to
the large pink head, oozing viscous precum. He looked over at me with a
cheeky grin that was utterly flummoxing. I gulped.
"Get to it roomie."
`Brae, this is better than any fantasy you ever could have concocted! Go for
it! Do it!' I told myself, finding that my limbs were less sold on the idea
that my brain was; I couldn't seem to fill myself to move. Skip moaned and
leaned his head back, his eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy, and suddenly my
body started responding.
I tugged my briefs back down, and began pumping my own erection, still
incredulous at what was happening. I watched in awe as Skip's hips began to
thrust up from the tangled mass of sheets on his bed, his shining pale
glutes flexing under the exertion. I couldn't drag my eyes away from Skip's
taught body, the look of bliss on his beautiful face, or the gentle curve of
Skip's incredible cock. A warm tingling sensation began building deep in my
groin and I pumped harder, doing my best to stimulate the sensitive region
under my cock head, as my orgasm rose through me, I bucked my hips, thrust
my head back and with a groan unleashed half a dozen ropes of thick cum over
my chin, neck, chest, and abs. The sensation was so intense it took me
nearly a minute to regain my full senses, as it felt like neurons were
firing off in my brain.
Finally, I heard a chuckle from Skip's side of the room and looked over at
him. He'd gotten up and was toweling himself off with his briefs. The sight
of his naked backside caused another jolt in my spent cock.
"Dude, you are a mess." He laughed. "Great way to start the morning. But you
better get up... And clean yourself up. I'm guessing you don't want anyone to
see you like that."
"Uh, no," I said, suddenly feeling a little exposed, although Skip and I had
just shared something pretty intimate. It was going to take me awhile to
process everything that had just happened. I checked the clock. 5:27. I
grabbed some tissues and dabbed up the remnants of our morning's exertions.
"Don't forget you have work today," Skip said as I got up and started
packing my swim bag.
"Oh, right. Thanks," I said, genuinely glad for the reminder. It was going
to take some time for me to start thinking clearly again. I grabbed my guard
suit and shirt and stuffed them in my bag.
"Ready." I announced after pulling on shorts and a tee.
"Let's go, kiddo!" Skip said with an exaggerated twang and a toothy grin. I
was glad to see that his moodiness from the night before seemed totally
forgotten. I followed him out the door to practice.
* * *
It's amazing the difference a good night's sleep can make. I breezed through
the workout without too much difficulty and Jimmy seemed pleased with my
progress from the day before. Not surprisingly, Drake seemed surly and
sluggish, and Tate seemed to be getting the brunt of his wrath. I felt bad
for him, but was wary of voicing my sympathy, lest Drake should take us as
allies and turn his rage on me. The tension in our lane was practically
suffocating and I couldn't help but hope that things would be changed up
soon. I gave Tate a few sympathetic smiles when I was sure Drake wouldn't
see, feeling a little guilty that I couldn't, or wouldn't, do more to back
him up after he'd obviously gone so out of his way to help me the other
night.
I showered quickly after practice and found that I still had 45 minutes
before the start of my shift. I debated going to the dining hall to grab a
proper breakfast, but the prospect of grabbing a nap on the mats was too
tempting. I set an alarm on my phone and then crashed on one of the plusher
mats by the dry-land training boards. While my swim had calmed me down
substantially, my mind was spinning with images from that morning's
occurrences with Skip.
My phone rang a few minutes before I'd set the alarm to go off. I checked
the screen and didn't recognize the number. I flipped it open hesitantly.
"Hello?"
"Brae! Hey! It's Emmie."
"Oh, hey! What's up?"
"Did Lottie tell you I'm working for her today?" She asked.
"Oh, uhh, no, she didn't. Everything okay?"
"Yup, her mom just flew her down to NY for the day to do some shopping."
"Oh," I said with a smile, more than a little amused.
"Anyways, I'm about to make a Starbucks stop, so I thought I'd see if you
wanted me to pick something up for you."
"Oh, wow, thanks, that's so nice."
"No biggie."
"Umm, I guess if you could get me a tea that would be great."
"Sure, what kind?"
"Black, two sugars, no milk."
"Two sugars, no milk, got it. Anything to eat?"
I suddenly felt pretty hungry. "Umm, if they have bagels, one with jam would
be nice. And a croissant."
"You got it. See you in a few. Don't freak if I'm a few minutes late."
"Okay, thanks a lot Emmie."
I relieved the guards before me a few minutes early. They both looked
comatose and were grateful for the early reprieve. Emmie arrived on time,
chattering away on her cell phone. She flashed me a bright smile from across
the deck. Her long red hair was pulled loosely back into a slopping pony
tail. She's cut the collar of her guard shirt so that it hung loosely off of
one shoulder, and her tiny red shorts were by no means the regulation ones
we'd been provided with. She wrapped up her conversation just before she got
to the chair.
"Lottie says `hello'" Emmie chirped cheerfully as she handed me my tea and a
small paper bag. "I told her she has to bring me presents! I can sit while
you eat," she said with a bright smile.
"Thanks," I said, climbing down from the lifeguard chair and handing her the
rescue tube. "What do I owe you?"
"Don't worry about it," she said, climbing up into the lifeguard chair,
pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her tote and putting them on.
"Emmie, you hafta let me pay you back."
"It's really not a big deal. Besides I still feel guilty for outing you the
other night. Consider it penitence."
"Fine. As long as I'm allowed to reciprocate at some point."
"Sure, babe."
I dug into the bagel eagerly. I was going to need to start bringing food to
these morning shifts, I was a lot hungrier than I had realized.
"So, how's lover boy?" Emmie asked, with a glint in her eye.
"Well, I've seen the goods, as you put it the other night..."
"WHAT?!" Emmie squealed, practically jumping out of the chair. "What
happened?!"
I nodded towards the pool. "Umm, shouldn't you at least pretend to be
watching the pool?"
She waved my comment away as inconsequential.
I ran her through the story of what had occurred that moment and my feelings
that Skip was hiding some kind of secret.
"I mean he hasn't spoken to his family since he got here. And he isn't even
going back for his sister's wedding. There is definitely something up with
them," I said as I peeled off a deliciously buttery layer of my croissant.
"He is *definitely* gay! He's gotta be."
"Ugh, I just don't know," I groaned.
"Brae, straight guys just don't do that."
"I think sometimes they might... I dunno. It was just jacking off. And it's
not like he was looking at me, he had his eyes closed..."
"You *think* he had his eyes closed. Maybe he was just pretending too."
"I mean, maybe he's just so comfortable in his own straightness that jacking
off with a buddy is no big deal to him. I mean he's right, there's no sense
in us tiptoeing around each other all year, when we both know what's going
on."
Emmie scoffed. "I am by no means the authority on boys, but that seems
really implausible. I just don't think guys would do that. Especially super
macho athlete types."
"Skip isn't like that though. He's really sweet and mature."
"That's just another indicator in my opinion. Besides, you said there is
something odd about his relationship with his family that he isn't telling
you. It all fits together."
"I guess, I dunno..." I said polishing off the last of my croissant. I got up
and threw my garbage away. "Okay, I guess I'll go sit in the other chair," I
announced. "See you in a bit."
She laughed. "Brae, there's seven people here. And Greg doesn't ever come in
before 11. We don't have to sit in both chairs. You can hang out here and
chat with me."
"Umm..." I was unsure if it was a good idea for me to slack off on my very
first shift, plus it felt like I was disregarding everything I'd learned in
guard training.
"It's no big deal. Here," she said, handing me the rescue tube, "you can sit
and look responsible and I'll stand. This chair sticks to my butt anyways."
She lithely climbed down from the chair.
"Okay..." I said uneasily.
"Oh! The girls and I are doing a beach day tomorrow. Wanna join us?" She
asked brightly.
"I'd love to, but I have practice."
"Yeah, we know. We're planning on leave at 9am and being back around 2:30.
Nicola will only go for prime sun hours," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Oh great. I'd love to come."
"And you can ask Skip," Emmie said winking at me. "I am sooo anxious to meet
him and size him up for myself."
"I'll ask him. It would be fun if he came. What beach are we going to?"
"It's a lake like 20 minutes from here."
"How do we get there?"
"Drive. We're still trying to figure out the car situ, since Nicola's car is
a two seater and my car hasn't arrived from L.A. yet. Lottie doesn't drive.
We may just rent one for the day."
"I have a car. I don't mind driving," I said.
"Really?! Oh that would be perfect!" Emmie gushed. "It would seat all of
us?"
"It seats seven."
"Wonderful. I didn't think freshmen were allowed to have cars."
"I think my dad pulled some strings, he and my mom want me to be able to
drive down to our ski house to see them on the odd weekend."
"Ooh that sounds so fun!"
"Yeah, I'll have to have you guys down sometime. It'll be great."
Emmie laughed. "Wait until you see me on skis! Despite my parents' better
efforts I have just never gotten the hang of it. It is quite the spectacle."
"I can't wait."
Emmie and I chatted amicably for the rest of her shift. She told me about
growing up in Beverly Hills and Palm Springs. Her dad was a big studio
executive and her mother was a former sitcom actress. She had plenty of
stories about going to school with the fucked up children of the Hollywood
elite. She and Nicola were studying fashion and Emmie wanted to be a stylist
or creative director for a major fashion magazine some day. She was debating
whether or not pick up a second major in journalism, but the program at
Carrington was known for a broadcast, rather than print, focused program.
She had a million and one things to say about her summer internship in Paris
and it sounded like it had been a truly incredible experience. She and
Nicola had lived with Vallette's daughter, Elise, in a gorgeous apartment in
the pricey 6th arrondissement. They'd hobnobbed with the Parisian elite,
their closets had benefitted exponentially, and Emmie had even enjoyed a
summer dalliance with the son of the British ambassador. We finalized our
plans for the beach trip the following day as our shift ended and then went
our separate ways.
It was only after I got back to the dorm that I remembered that I'd wanted
to ask her about exactly what had happened the other night and, more
importantly, whether or not Tate had been party to my coming out. She seemed
to know his family pretty well so she should be a fairly sound judge of
whether or not I could trust him not to out me and essentially throw me at
the mercy of Drake and the rest of the team. `Oh well, I'll ask her tomorrow
I guess," I muttered as I climbed the stairs up to the room.
* * *
The room was empty when I got back so I decided to quickly check my email
and then catch a nap before afternoon practice.
`I feel like all I do nowadays is sleep," I groaned to myself. `I hope this
isn't prophetic of my college life. I really hope I adjust to this.'
Skip came in, waking me up, a few minutes after 2.
"Oh, uhh, sorry if I woke ya."
"It's okay," I smiled. "At least you didn't catch me with my pants down...
again."
Skip grimaced slightly. "Yeah..."
"I was about to get up anyways, I wanted to grab a bite before practice. Do
you wanna join me?"
"I just ate with some of the guys. I'm okay," Skip said a little guiltily.
"Oh, okay then..." I hoped my disappointment wasn't too apparent. "Oh! Any
interest in going to the beach tomorrow?"
"But we have practice."
"Yeah, I know, we're leaving after morning practice and we'll be back by
afternoon."
"We?"
"Lottie and her friends. They invited you along though."
"How nice of them to condescend," Skip said with biting sarcasm. I was taken
aback.
"Skip it isn't like that..."
"You might want to think about socializing more with the team Brae. You're
becoming an outcast."
"What are you talking about? It's only been three days. Most of the team
isn't even here yet. And I don't think I'm missing anything by avoiding
Drake and his crowd."
I didn't know where Skip's sudden anger was coming from. Did this have
something to do with what happened between us this morning? Was he feeling
guilty and trying to distance himself from me? I quickly repacked my swim
bag with a fresh suit and towel and decided to change the subject.
"I left my laptop on in case you wanna use it. I'm gunna go grab some food."
Skip didn't respond.
"Okay, bye," I said awkwardly, edging out of the room.
`That was SO bizarre,' I almost said aloud as I headed towards the
stairwell. `Is he bipolar? Or entrenched in some seriously deep denial? I
wonder how much his family has fucked him up.' I was surprised at how easily
Skip's words rolled off my back. Somehow I knew, or at least believed, that
Skip couldn't actually mean what he was saying.
I grabbed some food from the dining hall and munched on it as I headed to
the Gnat. I ran into Cam and Kenner on the way and gave them a cheerful
greeting. `May as well prove Skip wrong,' I thought to myself.
"Hey guys! How's the shoulder feeling Kenner?" I asked.
"Okay. Still a little stiff. I'm going to have to go easy on the weight
training for awhile."
"That sounds like a good idea. You guys end up doing anything fun last
night?"
"Nope, Kenner iced and we both went to bed early," said Cam.
"How was the movie?" Kenner asked
"It was good. Very entertaining."
Conversation lulled for a moment and I racked my brain for some other topic
of conversation. In reality, I didn't know that much about Kenner or Cam,
but asking them to talk about themselves felt awkward.
"So how was lunch with Skip? Did you guys just go to the dining hall?" I
asked.
"We didn't have lunch with Skip. We ate at that Italian place in town," Cam
said, giving me a confused look.
"It was sooooo good!" echoed Kenner.
"Oh I thought he said he ate with you guys."
"Nope," Cam replied.
"I think he got cornered into eating with Drake and Finch and those guys,"
Kenner said. My eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Ohh..." Skip's comments suddenly made a little more sense. I was startled and
a little disappointed. I decide to change the subject before they could
detect my displeasure. "That Italian place is so good. I ate there with my
parents. I just wish they did takeout. This town is seriously lacking a
pizza place."
"They do, do takeout!" Kenner said, triumphantly pulling a menu out of the
side pocket of his bag. I laughed.
"Looks like they've found quite a fan." I smiled.
"It is all I've heard about for the last hour," Cam said, rolling his eyes.
For the rest of our walk we compared our meals and our favorite pizza places
from home (Cam was from Rhode Island and Kenner from upstate New York, I
discovered over the course of our conversation).
* * *
We were starting with dry land so I went straight out on deck when I'd
finished changing. Skip wasn't there yet, so I grabbed a spot on the mats
and began stretching, exchanging pleasantries with a few of the guys around
me. Drake strutted in a few minutes later and I couldn't help watching him
suspiciously out of the corner of my eye. How did he attract such a steady
group of followers? Didn't people see what a douche bag he was? Were they
simply afraid of him? I didn't understand the power he wielded over his
little band of followers. He was obviously one of the most egocentric people
I'd ever met, there was no way that a friendship with him could ever be
fulfilling, unless people perceived they were getting some sort of a status
boost from hanging with him.
While I pondered the enigma that was Drake Brewer, Skip entered and, to my
utter shock, selected a spot on the mats by Drake and his friends. My
surprise must have read on my face because Drake looked over at me and gave
me a gloating smile of triumph. I averted my eyes back to the mats.
Timmy ran the dry land practice and it was interesting to experience his
coaching style. Though he was more reticent than Jimmy, he was much less
patient and had no tolerance for slacking. He respected work ethic above all
else and I got the sense that he was the type of coach that I could thrive
under. Timmy pushed us hard but I felt a sense of accomplishment after
finishing. I partnered with a nice kid from Florida named Colin for some of
the exercises. He was a senior, swam distance events, and was going to be
rooming with Carl Franke and some of the other upperclassmen in an off
campus house. He was studying engineering and religion, so I was thankful
that he kept offering up fresh topics of conversation since my knowledge of
both these subjects was non-existent. He loved Stephen King novels (a shared
obsession), the Sci-Fi channel (not a shared obsession), was an avid tennis
player, and recommended his favorite Mexican restaurant and coffee house in
town. Although I sensed that we didn't have enough in common to ever be
great friends, I was touched that he seemed so willing to socialize with an
underclassmen and to make me feel at ease.
We only swam for about 45 minutes and it was more of a cool down than a full
blown workout. I said hello to Tate, which garnered me a sneer from Drake. I
ignored him, not feeling like provoking any further interaction with him.
After practice I headed quickly into the showers, hoping to finish before
Drake and most of the other guys descended. I noticed Beau eyeing me up as I
rinsed off and groaned inwardly when he approached me.
"Hey Brae."
"Hey."
"How was your practice?"
"Fine." My tone was a little shorter than I'd intended and I felt a little
bad, but I hoped he would get the message and leave me alone.
"You seem to be adjusting to the practices already."
"Yeah."
"A lot of the other guys are struggling."
"Yeah, they're not so bad."
"So, how are your parents?" he asked, with an odd tone of familiarity. I
wanted to ask him why the hell he wanted to know, or felt entitled to know,
but I refrained.
"They're fine."
"Oh good. So..." He paused. "I saw you walking around with Emmie Heron
earlier."
"Yeah..." Now I was really curious. Where was he going with this? He seemed to
be all over the place.
"Is she dating *anyone*," he asked pointedly. This was too classic. He
thought that Emmie and I were a couple. He was scoping me out as
competition.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just curious. We're old family friends. We winter together in Vail."
"Then I think you can ask her that yourself," I said, wanting to mention
that `winter' was a noun, not a verb, and smack him for his snobbery, but
instead I snapped the cap closed on my shampoo and wandered away to my
locker.
* * *
Back in the room I switched the TV on and checked my emails. Emmie had sent
out a few finalizing our plans for the next day and Lottie and Nicola had
responded to thank me for volunteering to drive. I sent one back saying that
Skip most likely would not be joining us, and teasing them with my discovery
of Emmie's secret admirer. Skip came in just as I was flopping onto the bed
to watch TV.
"Hey," I said, as he entered. He went straight into the bathroom and shut
the door. He emerged a few minutes later and laid down on his bed.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"Have you eaten yet?"
"No."
"Do you want to go get something in a little while?"
"'Kay."
This was beginning to feel like my conversation with Beau, but reversed.
"Are you mad at me or something?"
"No."
"Okay... Do you wanna play Wii?" I asked, hopefully.
Skip seemed to think about this for a moment. "Sure."
"Tennis?"
Skip gave some kind of an incomprehensible grunt. I took it as a `yes.'
We played rather vigorously for close to a half hour before I suggested that
we head down to the dining hall and grab dinner. We grabbed a table after
filling our trays. We ate in silence for awhile and I became increasingly
annoyed at Skip's sullenness. I may as well have gone to dinner by myself. I
at least could have gone somewhere where they served halfway decent food.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I finally asked.
Skip looked irritated. "Yeah."
"I feel like you're annoyed with me or something." I wanted to ask him if it
was about what happened this morning, but I was nervous that it might set
him off. Skip didn't reply. I decided to change the subject. "I'm going to
call my mom tonight, I owe her a long chat. I can go somewhere else though
if you'd be annoyed."
"It's okay. I'm goin' out."
Well that was progress. Multiple words.
"Oh? Where are you going?"
"Out."
"Yes, you said that." No response. "With who?"
"Some guys from the team." Drake.
"Oh cool," I said, discouraged. Something was definitely going on but I
wasn't going to get anywhere by continuing to probe him. "So... you sure you
don't want to come to the beach tomorrow? I think it'll be really fun."
"I'm sure."
"Okay."
More silence. I walked over to the frozen yogurt machine and served myself a
large cup. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cam joining our table. `Thank
god. Maybe this will lighten things up a bit,' I thought to myself. I doused
some rainbow sprinkles onto my ice cream and then returned to our table.
"Hey Cam!" I said cheerfully. "Where is Kenner?"
"Hey. He's with the trainer, getting iced."
"Oh, is he really sore again today?"
"I don't think it's as bad. Anyways, he wanted to order pizza tonight. He is
fixated on that place. I mean it was great, but I didn't feel like doing it
twice in one day, so I came to grab a bite." He dug into his quesadilla.
"He was really excited about that place," I said. "You remember Skip, it's
the place we went with my parents."
"Oh, yeah. It was really, really good."
"So do you have your meeting with the academic counselor tomorrow Cam?" I
asked.
"Yeah, I think we all have them tomorrow."
"Have you thought about what classed you're going to take yet?"
"Not really. I don't think I have much choice though. Pre-med has a lot of
sequences, I don't know if I get any choice at all."
"Bummer." Was Skip's paltry offering to the conversation. Still, his tone
seemed less hostile than it had before.
"You get your laptop tomorrow, right Skip? Excited?" I asked.
"Oh cool," Cam piped in. "Do you know what kind it is?"
"Not exactly. They let you pick Apple or PC, and I chose Apple. But I don't
know exactly what model or anything."
"Nice choice. I am a Mac man myself," Cam smiled, his nose crinkling and his
eyes squinting. Cam continued to grow on me, he was a really genuine person.
"Yeah, that's what we had at my high school so..." Skip said.
"Are you going to ask about jobs also?" I asked.
"Oh I wanna get a job at the library. I heard the people are kinda weird,
but you can get a lot of work don't there," Cameron cut in.
"Oh, that sounds good. Yeah, I gotta ask about that. Brae's lifeguarding at
the pool." Skip said.
"Yeah, I really like it so far. I've only worked one shift though."
"I feel like that might be a little O.D. on the pool time for me." Cam said
with a chuckle. "I already kinda feel like I live there."
"Know watcha mean." Skip said. He seemed to be returning to his normal,
friendly self.
"So what are you guys up to tonight?"
Skip didn't reply.
"I think I'm going watch a movie, or play some Wii. Oh, and I owe my mom a
phone call."
"You have a Wii?! Awesome!"
His enthusiasm was childlike and quite charming. "Yeah. You can come by and
play if you want. Kenner too."
"Really?!"
"Yeah, sure. I'm going to call my mom in a few minutes. But if you guys want
to drop by in like an hour, hour and a half, we can play."
"Awesome! What floor are you guys on?"
"Five. We're in 503. I'm pretty sure we're the only people on the floor as
yet."
"Not anymore. I saw a new guy moving in this morning after practice," Skip
said.
"Oh really? What's his name?"
"I didn't ask."
"Oh." I would have expected Skip to extend a friendly greeting and even to
volunteer his assistance in moving in the newbie. "Maybe we can invite him
to play Wii with us," I said to Cameron. "I'm sure he doesn't know anybody
yet. Skip, you'll have to point out his room on the way up."
Cam agreed to come up to our room in an hour or so and Skip and I went back
up to our room. He pointed out the new kid's room on the way and I knocked,
but nobody answered. I figured he was probably doing stuff with his parents.
Skip threw on a pair of jeans and headed out pretty much as soon as we got
back to our room.
"Have fun!" I called after him.
I made the call to my mom. I gave her (and my dad after her) the full
rundown on how the first few practices went and assured them that
Carrington's coaches were a good fit for me. My mom wanted to hear all about
the friends I was making, so I told her about Cam and Kenner, and Lottie,
Emmie and Nicola. She told me I should have everyone down to the ski house
whenever I wanted. She pestered me with questions about Skip and, knowing
she's sniff me out if I totally lied, I said he seemed stressed and crabby
because he was struggling to get used to the workouts and seemed generally
overwhelmed. I promised her I'd do what I could to be supportive. She wanted
to talk about classes again before I registered with the academic advisor
the next day. Before signing off we made a tentative date to get together
for a weekend at the ski house in early October, just before the start of
the swim season. I promised to give her another call sometime this weekend,
then said goodnight.
Cam and Kenner arrived twenty minutes later. Our odd number made things a
little bit awkward, and I even ran down to see if the new kid was back and
wanted to join us (he wasn't), but we managed to make do. I was more than
happy to sit out more than my fair share because their enthusiasm was so
infectious. They both had sharp, sarcastic senses of humor, Kenner's a
little self deprecating, and they played off each other really well. Cameron
delighted in imitating Timmy's Australian accent and barking out gruff
commands. Looking at them you would have thought they'd known each other for
years, they already had a shtick they put on for others. Cam's girlfriend
called at one point and he went out into the hall to take her call, so I got
a little more playing time.
"She has him so whipped," Kenner said rolling his eyes as Cam ran out of the
room. "She's called at least five times a day since we got here. I am
telling you, no good can come of long distance relationships."
"Have they been dating long?"
"Less than a year. She's just way hotter than him. It's unnatural. It's
thrown off the whole power structure of their relationship," he said with a
devilish glint in his eye.
"Where does she go to school?"
"She's hoping to go here. She has another year of high school left. If she
doesn't get in here, Cam says he thinks they'll probably break up."
"What about you?" I asked. "Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Me?" Kenner said with a laugh. "I'm not blind Brae."
"Uhh..." I felt flustered, unsure what to say.
"Don't worry I'm not fishing for compliments. I know that I need to come
into my own a little bit more, or win an Olympic medal, before I can
realistically expect to find a girlfriend. At least a halfway attractive
one."
"I do think you're selling yourself short."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... so do you have a girlfriend?" he asked.
"Uhh... no." My voice sounded strangely awkward.
"Boyfriend?" He looked at my pointedly.
My jaw went slack with shock and felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach
again. Why did this keep happening? I was too flustered to respond
immediately.
"I'm pretty perceptive. And I have a gay brother," he said, taking my
silence as affirmation. "Don't worry, I wouldn't ever say anything. Cam has
no idea."
I was less seized by panic than I had been the other night. I supposed that
I was getting more used to the idea of my sexuality being public knowledge.
I also sensed that Kenner was somebody I could trust.
"Thanks."
"So who else knows?"
"Just you and a few girlfriends," I said.
"Yeah. Skip has no idea I'm sure," Kenner replied. "It's not obvious at all,
I just noticed that you seemed a little reserved, like you were being
careful to hold something of yourself back. And you seem kind of
self-reflective. It reminded me of Reid, my brother."
"The one that goes here?"
"No, that's Jake. Reid is 22, he lives in Brooklyn and works in finance."
"Oh, cool," I said, not sure what else I was supposed to say. Was I supposed
to ask more questions? Or feel some kind of immediate gay kinship with
Kenner's brother? I was still processing the fact that Kenner had figured me
out.
"So, boyfriend?" Kenner asked.
"No."
"Well, you'll get one when you want one. I have no doubts about that."
Kenner put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and gave me a caring smile. "If
you ever need someone to talk to, I don't mind. Reid has used and abused me
for years."
Cam came back in with a sheepish smile and Kenner cracked an imaginary whip
in his direction.
"Do you guys want snacks or something to drink?
"Oh god, don't get him started," Cameron said. "Kenner's from one of those
all soy, flax, and unpalatable mush households, he has been insatiable since
we got here."
"Never knew preservatives good be so good?" he asked, leering lustily at the
Oreos and Pringles I proffered.
The rest of the evening passed pleasantly. We put another significant dent
in the snack stockpile and had quite a sugar buzz going by the time they
left a couple of hours later. Kenner gave my shoulder an affectionate
squeeze and winked at me on his way out.
"You have my digits Davvy. Hit me up anytime," he said with a smile. I
smiled in return. It was impossible not to.
* * *
As I got ready for bed my mind replayed my conversation with Kenner. It was
obvious to me that he was a good person and that he would be a reliable and
trustworthy ally. I also reflected on how much easier it was to come out to
him and talk to him than it had been my first time with Emmie and Lottie. I
could only hope that it would continue to get easier (and that everyone
would take the news in such a mature manner). Would Skip take it that well?
Would he be happy or even relieved? My head was still reeling from our
activities that morning and his bizarre, but possibly understandable,
reaction. I just hoped that irreparable damage hadn't been done to our
friendship and that Skip would continue to feel as though he could be
himself around me. I would hate if he felt he had to censor his true self.
I threw together a beach bag for the following day, packing it with board
shorts, extra towels and snacks. I spotted my iPod on the desk and I threw
that in as well with a pair of sunglasses.
I turned up the A.C. (I liked sleeping in the cold) before sliding into bed.
Cracks of bluish light from the courtyard slipped into the room between the
blackout curtains, making odd geometric patterns on the rich wood cabinetry
on the far wall of our room. It was strange how comfortable I already felt
here. Sleep overcame me quickly but gently.
* * *
Shortly after 4am I was awoken by retching and coughing sounds. I looked
around our room expecting to see Skip (hopefully) curled over a garbage can,
or perhaps laying in his bed, but he wasn't there. The light in the bathroom
was off but I got up and checked anyway. No Skip. I turned on the lights
just to be sure I hadn't missed him huddling in some corner. The retching
noise came again and I realized that it was coming from outside the room. I
opened the door to find Skip passed out just outside our door, lying in a
pool of his own bile, his keys lying in his limp hand.
`Oh great,' I muttered to myself, inwardly thanking fate that Skip had at
least managed to pass out on his side and avoided choking on his own vomit.
I picked him up and half carried, half dragged him into the bathroom. Vomit
was crusted over the left side of his face, extending up into his hair and
down to the shoulder of his shirt; it smelled like Vodka. My inner lifeguard
kicked in and I realized that I needed to check his vitals. His pulse felt
okay but his breathing seemed a little shallow. I decided I should probably
try to get him awake if possible and work on getting him to eat and drink
something.
"Skip," I said, shaking him gently. Nothing. "Skip!" I said again, louder
and giving him a firmer shake. Nothing. "Skip!!" I was yelling now, and
beginning to get a little panicky.
I didn't want to slap him, so I decided to pull him into the shower. I
tugged off his vomit soaked shirt and checked his pockets for his wallet and
phone before turning on a cold stream of water. Skip didn't immediately
regain consciousness and I became worried that I was going to have to call
for paramedics. Then he sputtered and slowly, groggily managed to open his
eyes. He coughed, then hunched over and vomited again on his legs.
`Oh fuck, this is a disaster,' I thought, as I rubbed his back until he
finished vomiting. I left the shower running to keep him awake and to
hopefully get the vomit to drain out of the shower. I ran into out room and
grabbed a bottle of water and brought it back for Skip. I shut off the
shower, and sat on the ledge next to him.
"Skip." Nothing. "Skip, look at me." Skip made a slight effort to raise his
head and then gave up. "Skip, look at me!" He raised his head this time and
there was some incoherent mumbling. "I need you to drink this," I said,
uncapping the water bottle and putting it to his lips. He managed to take a
few furtive sips. He was starting to shiver so I decided I should try and
move him out of the shower if possible.
"Okay, Skip, let's get you out of here now," I said grabbing him under the
armpits and hoisting him up. He seemed a little more with it, and helped me
pull him out of the shower so he wasn't pure dead weight. "Okay let's get
these pants off you," I said, trying to hold him up with one hand, while
pulling down the saturated jeans with the other. He was shivering more
furiously. When I finally got them down to his knees I sat him on the
toilet. He was swaying slightly and his head kept rolling back. I grabbed a
towel of the rack and wrapped it around him, then went back to pulling his
pants the rest of the way off. I grabbed another towel and tried to rub his
legs warm. It seemed to be working and he seemed a little more with it,
squinting oddly at me. `I wonder how many of me he is seeing right now,' I
thought, smirking at his disorientation.
"Skip, let's finish this bottle of water and then we'll get you onto your
bed okay?" I said, grabbing the bottle off of the counter and putting it
back towards his lips. He drank it more readily now. "Can you stand up?" I
asked after he finished the water. Skip mumbled something incoherent, then
grabbed my arms and tried to pull himself up with limited success. I
eventually had to grab one of his arms and throw it over my shoulder in
order to get him into our room. I slowly hobbled him over to his bed and sat
him down, grabbing the trash bin on the way just in case he decided to have
another little episode.
"Okay..." I said grabbing another bottle of water from the fridge and taking a
mental inventory of what foodstuffs we had in the room. "Ahh... bread!" I
thought aloud as I remembered that my mom had bought a loaf and put it in
the fridge on Sunday. I pulled it out, giving it a quick glance over for
telltale blue or green splotches. Still good. I pulled out two slices and
sat back down besides Skip. He was awake now, but not alert, his eyes looked
vacant and sort of glazed.
"Skip, let's eat some bread now, okay?" More mumbling. I handed Skip the
bread and he started to absent mindedly munch on it. "Do you want some more
water?" I asked after he'd finished his first piece of bread. He nodded yes.
I handed him another water bottle and he took a few sips before handing it
back to me. "Okay eat some more bread," I said as I went over to his dresser
and dug out some sweat pants. I walked back to his bed, turning off the A.C.
on my way over. "Let's get these on you. Warm you up a bit," I said, forcing
his feet through the legs of the sweats. Skip helped me tug them up over his
hips. I handed Skip the water bottle again after he finished his second
piece of bread. It was now close to 5am. `God, how is he ever going to make
it to practice today?'
I went into the bathroom and dug some aspirin out of one of the two
oversized bottles my mom had put in our medicine cabinet. `Well at least my
mom had realistic expectations for the types of trouble we'd be getting
into.' I brought the pills back into Skip and handed them to him. "Take
these." I said. Skip stared at them quizzically for a moment, then downed
the pills with another chug of water from the bottle. Skip leaned his head
back against the wall, shut his eyes and groaned.
"I'm sorry," he said, barely above a whisper. His voice cracked and sounded
raspy.
"It's okay," I said, sitting on the bed and putting a friendly hand on his
shoulder.
"No. I feel like a fucking idiot."
"It happens to all of us eventually Skip. How drunk do you feel right now?"
"Not very."
"Do you think you can go to practice today?"
Skip moaned as though in pain. "How long?"
"It's in an hour."
"Fuuuuuuck."
"I can try and make up some excuse for you."
"No. I hafta go. I hafta."
"Alright. Do you want to eat some more bread maybe then? And you might want
to shower again... Use soap." I grabbed Skip another two pieces of bread. The
room was beginning to smell a little ripe and I remembered the mess that
Skip had left outside. I handed Skip the bread and a fresh bottle of water
and then opened the windows.
"I'm going to go clean up outside, you yell if you need anything. I can help
you shower in a few minutes if you want."
I used an extra towel to clean up Skip's vomit. It was a pretty liquid
consistency and it seeped right through the towel. "Ugh gross. This is
foul," I muttered, gagging at the stench of the bile.
"I'm sorry!" Skip groaned. I looked up to see him watching me from the
doorway. His eyes looked teary. "I'm a bad, bad person."
"No Skip, you're not," I said, picking up the towel and looking at it
contemplatively for a moment. "I think I'm just going to throw this out," I
decided, after eyeing a garbage can well down the hallway.
"Yes, I am. Dad was right about me. Everyone was. I am an abomination!"
"No you're not Skip," I said absent mindedly. "I'll be right back." I ran
the towel down to the end of the hallway and tossed it into the garbage bag.
I took a step or two away and then, reconsidering, went back and tied the
top of the bag into a knot. `No need to stink up the hall. And nobody is
here to use this anyways,' I thought.
Skip was still standing in the doorway when I got back. He looked a wreck
and he'd obviously been crying. `Guess he's an emotional drunk. Good to
know,' I thought, packing that away into my mental inventory. I squeezed
passed him into the room and grabbed an antiseptic spray and a Febreeze. I
squeezed back passed Skip into the hallway and began to spray the dark spot
on the carpet with the antiseptic spray.
"I feel like we probably need baking soda or carpet shampoo. But hopefully
this will keep us from suffocating in the meantime. We can buy that stuff
tomorrow," I said.
Skip groaned again. "I'm a bad, bad person. I am evil." He slumped down
against the wall and started crying.
`Christ, this is just what I need right now.' "Skip, you are not evil, you
are not bad, you are not an abomination," I cooed at him, rubbing him
comfortingly with one hand, while Febreezing the carpet with the other.
"I am, I am!!"
"Why would you think that?"
"Because I'm bad!!"
"You're not bad. You're a good person Skip. Why would you think that?"
"Because I am a sinful badder."
"That doesn't even make sense." This was going nowhere. A doorway opened
down the hall and a curious head popped out.
"Hi..." I said awkwardly, giving a crooked smile. "I'm really sorry. We are
taking it inside. Sorry!"
"Okay. Goodnight." The door shut.
"That was odd. Okay let's get you inside." I turned my attention back to
Skip. With a helping hand he was able to pull himself up and teeter back
into the room. His intoxication level seemed all over the place, a few
minutes ago he hadn't seemed that drunk, and now he was a sobbing mess. I
led Skip back to his bed and tucked him in. He was still crying and mumbling
to himself. My curiosity was boiling over, I wanted answers, but was I the
kind of person who could take advantage of his vulnerable state to get them.
I wavered for a few moments, then bit my lip in determination.
"Skip?"
"Y-y-yes?" he stuttered out between broken sobs.
"What's wrong? Why do you think you are bad?"
"I-I-I, I'm an abom-abomination..."
"Why do you think that?"
"Becauuuuuse!" he moaned.
"Because, why?"
"Becauuuuuse!" he moaned again.
`Oh Christ,' I thought to myself. `Should I just say it? Put it out there?
Is he even going to remember this?'
"Skip why are you an abomination?"
No response.
"Is it because... is it because you're gay Skip?"
`Great. I am taking advantage of an emotionally disturbed drunk person. What
kind of roommate am I?'
Skip seemed confused by my question at first. "G-g-gaaaaay?" He managed to
simultaneously stutter and slur. "I'm not gay! I wish! I'm a killer!"
I sat upright, not sure if I'd heard it correctly.
"You're a what?!" I nearly shrieked, hysteria trickling into my voice.
"A k-k-killer," he moaned.
"Skip, look at me," I said grabbing his face and staring into it intensely.
"Stop fucking around. What are you talking about?"
"M-m-m-my g-g-girlfriend, Holly, an' me, we, we, we, got."
"You got what?"
"We got pr-pregnant," he cried.
I saw where this was going. "Did you take her to get an abortion, Skip?" I
asked.
He nodded ruefully.
"Then what?"
"They know! Evvvveryone knows!" he wailed.
"Your parents?"
He nodded. "Everyone."
He was crying harder now and I felt guilty for inflicting this meltdown on
him. I still couldn't gauge just how drunk Skip was. Maybe he legitimately
wanted to get this off his chest. Either way, my heart went out to him. I
wrapped my arms around him and held his head to my chest while he cried. So,
Skip wasn't gay. At least that wasn't the secret. "Maybe he still is?" I
wondered to myself hopefully, knowing I was being na´ve. I knew abortion
wasn't big in the bible belt and I couldn't imagine the ostracization and
abuse Skip must have endured when people found out about him helping Holly.
We sat there awhile, I rocked him gently and whispered reassuring things to
him. He calmed down after awhile and became almost trance like. Eventually,
I realized it was 5:45am, and I needed to get going.
"Skip, you need to get some sleep. I'm going to tell them that you're sick
and can't come."
"Nooo," he groaned. "They'll fire me."
"They won't fire you. There is nothing you can do Skip, you're in no shape
for practice. I'll try and take care of it for you. Go to sleep," I said,
extricating myself from him and laying him down. By the time I'd gotten
dressed and grabbed my gym bag, he was asleep. I made sure he was sleeping
on his side, put a garbage bin next to the bed and put some water on his
nightstand. I went in to the bathroom and grabbed two more aspirin and put
them down next to the water. I looked down at Skip's splotchy, tear stained
face, now sleeping peacefully. I ruffled his fine hair affectionately and
then headed out for practice, jogging most of the way to get there on time.
* * *
Thanks for reading everybody! I've truly been overwhelmed by all of the
positive feedback! More to come soon.
Special thanks to Randy for editing this chapter.
Copyright 2009 keiren.connors@gmail.com